Back To You
by That Gorgeous Girl
Summary: Bulma is having doubts about Vegeta's feelings for her. Does he really care or is her love one-sided? Chi Chi has an idea to help Bulma discover the truth of the matter.


Back To You

Bulma was upstairs scrutinizing her appearance in her bathroom mirror. Her hair was getting long, nearly boob length, and she wasn't sure what to do with it anymore. She lifted a lock of aqua hair and let it fall to her chest limply. It was bland and lacking in appeal. That was her general feeling about the reflection staring back at her. She needed an upgrade.

She flipped the light off in the bathroom and went downstairs to the kitchen where she found her mom smiling down in adoration at her 3-year-old grandson greedily putting away a plate of cookies, with a cup of milk on the side.

"Slow down, Trunks. They're not going to run off, you know," Bulma chastised.

"But Bulma, he's a growing boy!" Mrs. Brief cheerfully dismissed her complaint.

Bulma rolled her eyes and walked up to Trunks. "Now you've got to eat just as many vegetables for dinner, deal?"

Trunks shook his head with a big grin on his face and let out a fake cry of pain when his mom plucked him lightly on nose.

"We'll see about that, little boy. Mom, you mind watching Trunks for a few?"

"Of course not, honey. Where're you off to?"

"Brava."

"Oh? I'm due for a touchup myself," she said, daintily patting her blonde bouffant.

Bulma watched the action thoughtfully for a moment before heading for the door. "Don't bake anymore cookies for him while I'm gone. I know he'll ask," she threw over her shoulder.

"Okay, sweetie!"

When the door shut Mrs. Brief glanced toward the oven, where a second batch of cookies were already baking, and giggled.

It was after 6:00 when Bulma returned home skipping lightly through the front door. She hadn't been able to remove the smile from her face since the reveal in the salon mirror. It was bold, it was fun, she was transformed into a new her—she loved it. Since becoming a mother, she didn't change up her look as much as she used to, now she felt like she reclaimed a piece of her former youth and it gave her a glow even her inattentive husband was sure to be dazzled by. She hadn't seen Vegeta since early that morning when they got into yet another argument about his neglectful attitude towards her. He was so consumed with training he hardly paid her any mind. Even Trunks, now that he was old enough to train, got more time from the man than she did. But Bulma bet her new look was sure to send his attention her way, how could it not? She raked her fingers through her hair and smoothed it down in the back before strutting into the kitchen while her family was eating dinner.

Her mom, the first to notice, squealed, "Oh Bulma! I love it!"

Dr. Brief raised his eyebrows in surprise and said, "My word, you look like a different person, Bulma."

Bulma smiled and proclaimed, "Out with the old, in with the new."

Vegeta scowled at her. "Woman, you look like-"

"Ms. 18!" Trunks shouted.

". . . that android freak," Vegeta finished.

Bulma's smile fell. For the first time in her life, she'd gone blonde. And she was feeling pretty good about it until right then. "What? No, I don't!" She flipped her hair over her shoulders sassily in an attempt to mask the painful sting of his comment. "Don't you like mommy's hair?" she asked her son.

Trunks looked at her head in childish awe for a few seconds before deciding, "Yes."

She smiled at the boy and winked then adjusted the shopping bag in her hand so she could put her hands on her hips and glare at her husband. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"Would it kill you to say something nice?"

"Something nice," Vegeta grumbled and left the table, with furious blue eyes trailing him.

"Have you eaten dinner yet, sweetie?" Mrs. Brief asked her daughter. "Why don't you sit down and-"

"I'm not hungry," Bulma snapped more forcefully than she intended and stomped after Vegeta.

She rolled her eyes when she walked into their bedroom and saw him doing his nightly pushups on the floor. 5000 every night for a _light_ exercise before bed. "Vegeta!" He kept counting off his pushups to himself and didn't answer, prompting her to go lean over him and shout, "80, 55, 62, 11, 400, 99!" in an attempt to sabotage his count. He didn't miss a count and continued to ignore her as anger welled up within her. This had been going on for months. While he never was the type to shower her with affection, the level of apathy he displayed toward her lately was unusual even for him. And nothing she tried fixed it, it was silly of her to think a change of hair color would. Neither would the lingerie she just purchased.

Bulma jumped on his back mid-pushup and started jumping up and down on it, screaming "Jerk! Jerk! Jerk!" repeatedly. Still his form rose and descended smoothly. She didn't succeed in disrupting his rhythm.

Vegeta only paused when he felt a drop of moisture make contact with the back of his neck. "Woman, you'll hurt your feet before you hurt me. This is nothing. But more importantly, why are you acting like a damn brat?"

Bulma wiped her eyes and threw her bag down at him. A silk bra spilled out of it when it missed his head and hit the floor. "I'm acting like I'm your wife! You should try acting like a husband!" She yelped and fell on her butt when he lifted himself up suddenly and stood.

"More like you've been acting insufferably! What do you want from me? And what is the point of that ridiculous hair color?"

"Ridiculous?" Bulma screeched. "I did it because I wanted to! What's it to you?"

Vegeta eyed her hair with disgust then turned to leave their bedroom.

"Where are you going? I'm talking to you!"

"To finish my pushups in peace," he answered without stopping.

Bulma knew "in peace" meant in the gravity room. She remained crumpled on the floor and gave up on holding her tears back. She didn't feel like herself anymore and she certainly didn't feel happy, but what had changed? She thought she knew what she was getting into by being with Vegeta but she didn't feel like she had him at all. It felt like he was moving further away from her by the day and she had a butter-fingered grip on him. If there was a way to bring him back to her, she didn't know it. She didn't know anything other than hurt and the nagging feeling that she was a fool.

For months afterward, Bulma dutifully touch-upped her roots every five weeks. Why should she care if he didn't like her hair? She had half a mind to keep the blonde permanently just to spite him, she was so angry at him. They were hardly on speaking terms, preferring to mostly ignore one another, or at other times, argue—arguments that she usually started. It became her only means of getting acknowledgment from him. They didn't have sex anymore. They had only been married for two years, wasn't it too early for them to fall into the dreaded sexless marriage zone? Prematurely or not, they were there.

She tried talking to her mom but talking to her mom about anything rarely ever helped. Her mom's brain resided on another planet; a planet where there was always smiling, laughter, dessert, and no translations for things such as heartache, angst, and emotional turmoil. So Bulma went to talk to someone fluent in that language.

Sunday afternoon Bulma landed at Mount Paoz in her hover jet. Before she got out, she looked toward the door of the little house almost expecting a tiny Gohan to rush out of it smiling and waving. But Gohan was too old for that, he was 13 now. How seemingly sudden that happened. She opened her door smiling at old memories and went up to house, hearing Chi Chi yelling as she neared the door. Before she could knock, it flung open.

"Bulma! Come in, come in, it's been so long!" Chi Chi pulled her into a tight embrace then leaned back to appraise her new hair color. "Oh wow, I like it!"

"Hey Bulma, cool hair," Gohan said.

"Good morning, Bulma, you look nice." Ox King chimed after him.

Bulma chuckled when she saw both of them sporting fresh red lumps on their heads. "Thanks. What's up fellas?"

"These two hoodlums!" Chi Chi lamented, shaking her head. "I step outside for five minutes to hang up the laundry and when I come back, they're wrestling in the living room. Almost broke my TV!"

"But I caught it in time," Gohan put in.

"And you're still in trouble!" Chi Chi bellowed, causing him to wince at her loud volume. "And so are you!" she shouted at her father who was trying to slink away from the scene without anyone noticing. "I know you were the ring leader," she said matter-of-factly.

"Where's the little guy?" Bulma asked Chi Chi.

"He's upstairs napping."

"Aw, too bad. I wanted to see him."

Chi Chi snorted. "Oh, trust me, he won't stay that way for long. Come in the kitchen and have some tea."

Bulma and Chi Chi sat at the kitchen table with steaming cups of jasmine tea, laughing as they regaled each other with stories about their mischievous toddlers.

"I didn't tell Trunks I was coming here, he would have been begging to see Goten."

"Goten misses him too, it's been months. It's a miracle I have a house left after the last time they got together. They're a handful on their own but together they're a whole wheelbarrow full! I'm bringing Goten to trash _your_ place next time."

Bulma laughed. "Fine with me. Hey Chi, I wanted to ask you something."

"Shoot."

"How do you deal with Goku always running off on some new adventure or being, um . . ."

"Dead?"

"Yeah," Bulma smiled apologetically, "that too."

"I don't know, Bulma, I kind of just got used to it after a while. I wanted him here with me but he always had somewhere to be, people to save, power to gain." Chi Chi looked down at the surface of her tea and knit her brows but relaxed them when looked up at Bulma. "But I've got two beautiful boys here with me every day," she said with a small smile.

"Sorry, Chi."

"Don't be sorry for me, Bulma. I'm grateful. Though, I admit, sometimes I envy you always having Vegeta at home."

Bulma shook her head vigorously. "That's only because you don't know the half of it. Chi, he doesn't even-"

"Leave."

"What?"

"He doesn't leave. He's always there."

"Well, yeah, sure he is, but even though he's there he's not really _there_ , you know? All he does is train and act like he doesn't care about me at all. He might as well not be there."

"That's not the same as being gone, Bulma! Don't you get it? He doesn't _leave you._ "

"I hear you, but-"

"No, you're not hearing me. The man can fly! He could go train anywhere in the world but he chooses to stay there with you. He obviously must care about you."

"I'm sure that has more to do with the gravity room than me. I think that's the only reason he never leaves. And Trunks."

"Then let's take Trunks and the gravity room out of the equation."

"Huh?"

"I'm saying shut the gravity room down and bring Trunks over for a weekend. See what he does then."

"But you said next time-"

"I know what I said, you'll just owe me one. So how about it, Bulma? Let's put our theories to the test and see who's right."

There was a slight tingle of fear in her chest as she chewed the corner of her lip. Vegeta seemed more distant from her now than he had ever been. It felt like . . . like he'd just stopped loving her. Did he really? The little experiment Chi Chi proposed could very well give her the answer to that crucial question. An answer she might not be ready to know. She had to know.

"Let's do it," Bulma said.

The next Friday, she got Trunks' things together and strapped him in her hover jet to head to Chi Chi's. The lavender haired boy was extremely excited about the trip. There were three bags alone filled with toys he wanted to show Goten and a bag designated for toys he was giving away to him because he was bored with them. He could barely be bothered to wave goodbye to her when she dropped him off. Goten did wave, vigorously, as she was taking off and Chi Chi cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted out a good luck to her, which made her feel nervous again about their plan. Everything was set; Trunks was out of the house until Monday and she'd disabled the gravity room while Vegeta was showering after his morning workout. Bulma gave her father strict orders not to fix it for him, and could only hope he wasn't bullied into doing so while she was gone.

Bulma heard yelling as soon as she walked through the door.

"You expect me to believe you've suddenly lost the ability to repair your own invention? Enough of this! Fix it right now, old man!"

"I, well, yes, I _am_ rather old, better wait for Bulma to return so she can—oh, there she is now."

"What seems to be the problem?" Bulma asked innocently.

"The gravity room, it was working perfectly fine earlier but stopped working not even an hour later!" Vegeta spat.

"Alright, let me take a look at it," Bulma said and went to the gravity room, followed by Vegeta.

Bulma tried not to behave awkwardly as he stood close by scrutinizing her every move while she pretended to inspect the gravity machine for defects. She'd disabled it remotely with a device that nullified the gravity simulator, making it so the gravity level display on the panel would still change but the actual gravity in the room would not.

"There's nothing wrong with it," she announced as she stood up.

"Then why the hell isn't it working?"

"Well," Bulma paused for a while, feigning deep thought, "I don't know."

"You and your father are pathetic liars. You've done something to it."

"Well, you use it relentlessly, Vegeta, you never let up! How long do you think it'll continue to work like new with you never giving it a rest? Try not using it for a while."

"How about you just give me one of your capsule ships?"

Bulma froze, unprepared to counter the obvious solution he offered, but quickly recovered with an excuse. "Those are all tied up in other projects, don't have a spare one for you, but I'll keep working on the gravity room. I'll get it running again soon. In the meantime, I guess you'll have to work out the old fashioned way," she said with a shrug.

At that, he scowled at her distrustfully, and scowled at her hair, too before stalking off angrily.

Bulma twirled a blonde lock around her finger self-consciously and sighed. She was over the color herself but she didn't want to go back to her original color—that'd mean he won. Pride trapped her into bleaching her blue roots religiously.

"He'll probably take off to find somewhere better to train," she mused aloud.

He stayed.

Each day he would grumble and curse and demand she fix the gravity room, and each day she would pretend to work on it then tell him she had yet to figure out the problem. Then he'd stomp off and do exercises on the back lawn or in the weight room she installed for him with weights that weren't a challenge for him anymore. But he never left Capsule Corp. Bulma was amazed. She thought the gravity room was the most precious thing to him—because it aided his obsession with getting stronger than Goku—and second to that was his newest obsession with Trunks being stronger than Goten. But those incentives were out of the picture, only she remained in the frame.

It was just as Chi Chi said: he did care about her. That was no new revelation, rather a reminder that calmed the storm of insecurity that was warping her psyche. She loved Vegeta and he loved her. That was a fact stamped in her heart, when did she lose faith in it? Vegeta was the same as he'd always been and nothing had changed between them, she was the one who changed. Where had her confidence gone? When did she become so needy? Since when did she feel the need to make desperate bids for his attention? She had to get back to herself and the blonde hair had to go. She couldn't stand it anymore, what was she thinking? She was thinking she had to win the love of a man whose love was already hers. Bulma went back to Brava Sunday and got her hair dyed back blue and a chic bowl cut. She caught Vegeta staring at her when she got home, but she wasn't looking for him to notice. She'd done it for herself and she did feel like herself again.

After Vegeta got out of the shower that evening, Bulma was sitting on the edge of their bed waiting for him with a smile on her face. He paid her no mind as he removed his towel from around his waist and pulled out some boxers from the dresser drawer. Bulma watched him with a new sense of appreciation, taking in his tanned skin, the rippling of his arm muscles as he pulled the drawer open and shut, and the deep dimples on the sides of his extremely toned butt. He was a good looking man—a loyal one too. She didn't have to worry about him going out with other women because he never went anywhere—that was like every woman's dream. Bulma giggled and Vegeta cut his eyes at her.

"What are you staring at?"

Bulma stood to wrap her arms around him and nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck.

"I love you," she said against his throat. For once, it didn't irritate her that he didn't say it back—not since she realized he had been saying it to her every day.

"Hardly," he scoffed.

Bulma looked up at him in surprise. "Why do you say that?" she asked.

"Because you sabotaged my gravity room. I'm no fool."

"Come on, I'm trying hard to fix it, you know. But I could be persuaded try a little harder," she said suggestively and placed a kiss on his jaw.

Vegeta was quick to play along, the energy radiating from her was irresistible. She hadn't been this way for a long time: so confident, playful, and completely open to him—like she was when they'd first met. That Bulma went away one day and was replaced with a needy version of her he didn't know how to function around. He was relieved to have his woman back-and to feel her again. The extended period of separation of their flesh had been agonizing. He answered her with rough wet kisses and immediately removed her clothes and laid her on the bed. Being inside of her as soon as possible couldn't have felt more necessary, but Bulma's hand pushing against his chest halted his entrance.

"What?" he said impatiently.

"Make love to me the way you did on our wedding night."

"I don't make-" she put a finger against his lips to silence him.

"Yes you do. Please Vegeta."

The unrestrained love shining in her eyes as she looked up at him was magnetizing. How long it had been since she'd looked at him that way. He would have waited around for an eternity to see that look again. That was the reason he could never leave her; where else in the universe could he go to feel this wanted? His home was destroyed when he was a child so he hardly knew what home was before he met her, but he knew it intimately now in her. She asked him to make love to her—he didn't truly know what that meant but he did remember their wedding night. He remembered how he took his time making sure every inch of her body knew it belonged to him forever. If she needed reminding, he was dedicated to spend all night reconfirming his ownership.

"Vegeta," Bulma moaned his name softly. Never again did she want to go so long without feeling the tender press of his lips roaming her skin and the heat of him all over her. He told her how much he loved her with every kiss and touch, his passion filled her completely. This gentle side of him he revealed to her and only her, the soft caresses of his hands, and his slow masterful strokes deep within her was all the proof she needed. A thousand I love you's couldn't compare to the love she was experiencing from the depth of his soul pouring into her, saturating her entire being, daring her to question its authenticity.

She swore with her tongue intertwined with his to never doubt it again.


End file.
